


Pretty Much a Big Deal

by Dira Sudis (dsudis)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Erectile Dysfunction, M/M, Past Sexual Assault, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/pseuds/Dira%20Sudis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://badsexfest.livejournal.com/">badsexfest</a>: <em>Derek has trouble getting and maintaining an erection. Can be funny, or angsty if you want to tie it to his past with Kate. Or both! I like a nice mix of humor and angst. Whether there's a happy ending (lol no pun intended) is up to the filler(s).</em></p><p>...Yeah, I went the trauma route. Brace for Derek's horrible sexual history and long-term trauma. And a happy ending!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Much a Big Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Miss Molly Etc for beta, and Iulia and Celli for encouraging (or at least failing to discourage) this! 
> 
> And thanks for the prompt, anon, I am halfway convinced that this is actually totally true about Derek now.

It had gotten to be a thing that happened: Stiles got a little carried away with making out and started grinding on Derek, and Derek flinched back from the press of Stiles's hard-on. There were a few options at that point--the first few times, Stiles had gotten embarrassed by his dick being so far ahead of the game and took off for the bathroom to do something about it. The problem with that was that Derek inevitably had disappeared by the time he got back. 

Stiles had discovered, though, that if he just shifted politely away from Derek, Derek would politely ignore Stiles's overeager dick and keep making out. Derek's hands always stayed pointedly above Stiles's waist; Derek had said they should take it slow, that he wanted to. He'd explained his horrific romantic history like someone giving the disclaimer in a prescription drug ad-- _may lead to lifelong trauma or horrible death_ \--so Stiles understood wanting to take it easy and not feel like he was taking advantage of the teenager and that whole deal.

On the other hand, Stiles's dick was hard, again, and his hot boyfriend had just inched away from it, again, and they'd been going at it for a while. They were both shirtless, hands had been wandering, and this had to be going somewhere. Stiles really wanted to be going somewhere, at least. He really wanted Derek to stop pulling away like Stiles's need for friction was a badly-timed fart.

Stiles didn't think before he did it, he just dropped his hand to Derek's crotch. He didn't know exactly what he expected, but it definitely wasn't to find Derek's dick utterly and undeniably soft under his jeans. For a second Stiles was just puzzled, like he'd flipped a light switch and nothing happened. He rocked his hand curiously against Derek's cock. It was definitely there, definitely not getting up. 

Then Derek's hand clamped down on Stiles's wrist, shoving his hand away as Derek scrambled back off of Stiles's bed. Stiles pushed himself the other way and half fell off the other side before popping to his feet. His heart sank--and his erection wilted--as he realized that he had Crossed A Line. 

"Shit, I'm sorry," Stiles put out his hands in a combination of apology and illustration of all the space between them now, too far for unwanted touching. "I didn't mean to--I just--" 

And then it caught up with Stiles. They'd been making out for the better part of an _hour_ , and Stiles had been about two minutes of dry humping away from coming in his pants, and Derek hadn't even been turned on at all.

"Wait, did you--aren't you--" Stiles stopped and took a breath. 

Derek was standing half turned away from Stiles, like he was seriously considering going out the window, straight through the blinds and the glass. Stiles had a great profile view of the perfectly smooth front of Derek's jeans. Derek was frowning, but it looked more like concentration than anger or horrible violation.

Stiles licked his lips, closed his hands into fists to steady himself against the horrible free-fall feeling of realization. "Dude, if you weren't into me at all, you could have just said. Why are you dragging this out?"

Derek looked actually startled when he looked back at Stiles, his face going open and blank with surprise for a second. "No, Stiles, I--"

"Dude, the heart wants what it wants, and so does the dick, okay? I get it, you like me, but I'm obviously not--" Stiles waved his hands at Derek's crotch, starting to feel actually kind of sick with the realization of how long he'd been strung along, how much Derek must pity him. "Doing it for you."

Derek went on just staring at him for a few more seconds, and then shook his head. "That's not--Stiles, you do. I do. Want you."

"Oh my God," Stiles flailed, his whole body protesting. "I know I'm not a lie detector, but--"

" _I can't_ ," Derek said, not loudly but somehow brutal as a punch. He looked a little winded himself, and it was Stiles's turn to give him the blank stare. 

Derek closed his eyes and took a couple of breaths. When he squared his shoulders and looked at Stiles again he had that grimly determined look on his face that usually meant he was about to ask Stiles to perform an amputation, or stay behind while everyone else went into danger, or something else equally wrong and impossible.

"It's not about you," Derek said, his voice coming out low and rough. His shoulders were hunched, his fists clenched against his thighs. "I do want you, I--you have no idea the number of times I've thought about you and...."

"Dude, I'm seventeen, I may have you beat there," Stiles said, hazarding a smile even as he tried to figure out what Derek meant when he said he _couldn't_. Was this the downside of werewolves mating for life? No sex before werewolf marriage? But....

"I can't," Derek said slowly, forcing the words out in short phrases like he was out of breath, like it was a physical effort to get them out. "Perform. If I'm with anyone. Not since--not since I was younger than you."

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Stiles said, because that was just the shitty cherry on top of the sundae of horror and death that was Derek's sexual history. Kate Argent had taken Derek's virginity and also _ruined sex for him forever_. "But you--I'm not arguing or anything, but you said you'd been with guys? After--high school?"

Derek shrugged stiffly. "Don't have to get it up to go down on someone or get fucked."

Stiles wrapped his arms around his stomach, holding himself still. He was starting to get vertigo from the new vistas of awful that kept opening up, but Derek actually seemed to relax slightly. 

"If you want that," Derek said. "We could. I would--that... works for me, sometimes."

"Sometimes," Stiles repeated faintly, wondering if there was any chance he could get it up to fuck Derek knowing Derek probably wouldn't get anything out of it. But he'd said-- "When you say _works for you_ , do you mean, like...?"

Stiles watched Derek's jaw work, and suddenly wished that they weren't standing on opposite sides of his bedroom to have this conversation. He also didn't know how to move any closer to Derek without spooking him out the window.

"I get hard sometimes," Derek said, staring at the wall off to one side of Stiles's face. "Get off. It helps if I'm not thinking about it too much."

"Okay," Stiles said, and started trying to make sense of this, putting all the information in order and figuring out what to do with it. That was easier than picturing anything that had happened to Derek with anyone else ever. "So you have, actually, had sex with people since--since this got to be a problem. And it worked for you. Sometimes."

"Not reliably," Derek emphasized, his gaze snapping back to meet Stiles's. "Not--I'm not going to be able to not think about it with you, not anytime soon. But if you want more now, I'm willing--"

Derek actually shifted his weight toward the bed, but he looked about as excited about it as he'd looked about Stiles cutting off his arm--less, actually, because he wasn't going to die if Stiles didn't. Determined, yeah, but not happy. That wasn't a kind of willing that Stiles wanted to get his dick anywhere near.

"No, I'm not if you're not," Stiles said, waving Derek off, because this was honestly the least turned on Stiles had been since that time Finstock taught Health class. "You also said you think about me, right? You meant thinking about me while jerking off, right? You do that?"

Derek's shoulders dropped into their normal, relaxed-by-Derek's-standards line, and he rolled his eyes. Stiles managed not to actually pump a fist in triumph at that return to normalcy. 

"Yes, Stiles. I jerk off."

"So it's mostly about feeling, like, safe, right?" Stiles theorized, relief bubbling up in his chest. This was fixable; they could totally handle this. 

"You could--you could learn, probably. Ha, I get to train _you_ for once! You can totally learn, we can set up a whole program to get to sex. We could try, like, on the phone first, and then when you're good with that we can Skype, or--oh, hey, we could totally do a webcam thing where you can see me but I can't see you, and then--"

" _Stiles_ ," Derek snapped, but snapping was good, snapping meant Derek was frustrated or maybe annoyed, and Stiles would take either of those over Derek being tense and miserable. 

Stiles stopped talking and smiled as he waited for Derek to argue.

Derek glared, folding his arms across his bare chest, and said, "So I actually get to touch you again _when_ , in this plan of yours?"

For half a second Stiles was trying to guess how long all the intermediate steps might take, and then he realized what Derek was actually saying, and how Derek's folded arms were more of a shield than a gesture of irritation. 

"Dude, you can touch me--" Stiles said, and then got stuck on the realization that Derek's misery as he explained hadn't just been about stuff that happened before, it was _this_ , right now. Derek felt awful about having to admit he couldn't get it up and had wanted to just run--which was what he _had_ done the first five times. 

Derek's mouth and shoulders drew in tighter the longer Stiles didn't finish that sentence.

Stiles did, actually, know the right thing to say, so he blurted it out before Derek could actually implode. "Derek, wait, no, I love you even if your dick doesn't work!"

Derek's arms uncrossed and his jaw dropped, the annoyed look falling away into shock. That was when Stiles realized that he'd said that thing that they'd both been scrupulously avoiding saying for weeks now. And he'd said it in probably the weirdest and least flattering way he could have come up with if he'd planned it for a month. 

Derek just stared at him for a few seconds, and then he cracked up. 

Stiles grinned and darted around the bed as Derek kept laughing, staggering backward to lean against Stiles's desk; he had one hand over his face as his whole body shook. Stiles reached for him when he got close enough, hooking his fingers into Derek's belt loops. Derek reeled him in and leaned his forehead against Stiles's bare shoulder, winding down to little helpless bursts of giggles.

"I was saving that up," Stiles informed him, and the proud tone was completely sincere, because he'd made Derek _laugh_. "For just this occasion."

Derek just snorted and shook his head, but he looked up, looping both arms around Stiles's neck as he met his eyes. 

"I love you despite your tendency to hump my leg," Derek said, straight-faced, just a hint of laughter shaking the last couple of words.

"Oh, I see what you did there, reverse dog joke, awesome," Stiles said, rolling his eyes, but Derek tugged him into a kiss, closing his arms around Stiles and pulling him close, skin-to-skin as their mouths opened to each other.

The kiss was light, mostly just their lips dragging against each other. It was an awkward angle--Derek seemed much more focused on keeping Stiles held tight against him than on the kiss itself--but Stiles was okay with that. It was good, actually, he thought, tilting his head, licking cautiously into Derek's mouth. It would have been bad to stop on a down note. This would put them in a good place to start fixing things.

Stiles cautiously settled his hands on the bare skin of Derek's back, and Derek opened a little space between them, pushing back into Stiles's touch. Stiles swept his hands up and down, nothing sexy, just touching as they went on trading little kisses, the kind that sounded dirtier than they were from the constant wet sound of their mouths parting and coming back together. Right about the time when Stiles's mouth started getting dry, Derek's hand slid into Stiles's hair, tilting his head back and to one side and putting his mouth out of range for more kisses.

For a second nothing else happened. Stiles opened his eyes and found Derek just looking at him--not his eyes, but his mouth, and then lower, and then back to his mouth. 

"Derek?"

"Stiles," Derek said, like that was an answer, but he moved. He nuzzled at Stiles's jaw, and the pulse point just under his ear, and then pressed his face into the side of Stiles's throat. 

Stiles closed his eyes and breathed deep, tightening his arms around Derek and trying his best to smell like _I love you_ and _this is okay_ and _whatever you need_. It was a little difficult because Derek's hands were on him, and he could feel the heat pouring off Derek's skin everywhere they weren't quite touching. Every breath Stiles took brought him the smell of Derek, that combination of sweat and hair product and leather that went straight to Stiles's dick. Derek's lips dragged against Stiles's throat, and the hand that wasn't keeping Stiles's head tilted back slid down to the top of Stiles's jeans, keeping him close. 

"Uh," Stiles said, wincing when even that sounded kind of breathless and worked up. He wasn't hard yet, but he could feel his dick starting to stiffen, and tried to angle his hips away from Derek's.

Derek rubbed his chest against Stiles's and tightened his arm around Stiles's waist, flattening his hand on Stiles's hip. 

"Stay," Derek mumbled. "Good boy."

"Ha ha," Stiles said, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think sad _don't make Derek feel bad_ thoughts while Derek was licking the spot where his shoulder met his neck. "Uh, Derek, seriously, I--"

"I told you," Derek said, bringing his hand up from Stiles's hips to press into the small of his back, bringing him in tight. "I don't mind you humping my leg."

"Actually you said _despite_ , which sort of indicates--"

Derek's teeth closed firmly on Stiles's collarbone.

"Okay, point taken," Stiles managed, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Derek licked the spot and Stiles let out a whimper. He rubbed helplessly against Derek, his semi hardening with every twitch of his hips.

"I like the way you smell right now," Derek said, which was sort of self-evident since he had his face pressed into Stiles's skin, but... good to know. "I like feeling the way you get hot; I like all the little noises you make. The way you taste. Those times before, when I left, I went home and got off thinking about you jerking off in the bathroom because you were so turned on from kissing me. One time I didn't even get there, I had to pull over and do it in the car."

" _Nggh_ ," Stiles said. He was definitely hard now, definitely grinding helplessly against Derek even if Derek wasn't pushing back, but a little useful corner of his brain was making a note of that data point.

"I could hear you," Derek added. He tilted Stiles's head the other way and started nuzzling at the opposite side of his throat, because he was a weirdo about symmetry. "The first time--I listened. That was why I took off before you came back, I knew you weren't thinking about me being able to hear you. I knew you'd be embarrassed if you came back and it was obvious I heard, and I didn't want you to not. Do that."

"Oh, fuck," Stiles gasped, digging his fingers into Derek's skin, trying desperately not to come just from the thought of Derek listening to him coming. 

"I want to see, though," Derek said, sliding a hand down onto Stiles's ass, lifting him onto his toes to press him closer. Derek could probably feel every twitch of Stiles's dick through his jeans now, even without wolf senses. "If you'll let me."

"Hey, yeah," Stiles said, his voice going high and wavering. "Whatever you need."

"Thanks," Derek said, sounding amused. This was probably funny if you weren't the one about to come in his pants; it was probably like being the sober one when somebody else was drunk. Stiles felt a little drunk right now, skin tingling and the top of his head getting light. "You wanna take off your pants? Or just do it like this?"

"You, uh--wait," Stiles said, pushing a little against Derek, and this time Derek let him back away, dropping his hands and letting Stiles think. "Do you want to watch me? I mean, do you want me to jerk off while you watch?"

"Not from across the room," Derek said. "Close up."

Stiles closed his eyes, pressing two knuckles into his forehead to try to think. "Bed?"

"Sure," Derek said, and brushed his entire body gratuitously against Stiles's as he passed him on his way to the bed. Stiles turned, watching, as Derek sat down against the headboard, tucking a pillow comfortably behind his back. He splayed his legs out as wide as those tight jeans would allow, and Stiles couldn't help looking again, but--no, nothing. But Derek's dick wasn't the point.

Derek patted the spot between his legs. Stiles nodded and shoved his pants and boxers down and off before he could think about it too much, scrambling onto the bed on his hands and knees. Derek tugged him into a kiss, only a little frantic and breathless, before he turned Stiles around and made him sit with his ass pressed up against Derek's crotch, his back to Derek's bare chest. Stiles leaned back into him, letting his head fall back against Derek's shoulder, showing his throat as he splayed his legs out over Derek's, his jeans surprisingly soft against Stiles's bare thighs. Derek settled one hand in the center of Stiles's chest, over his pounding heart, and nuzzled at Stiles's neck. 

"You smell better naked," Derek observed, and Stiles grabbed his dick, groaning helplessly. He couldn't help jerking himself fast and rough--too fast, kind of dry, but--

He felt Derek squirming behind him, and then froze as Derek's hand appeared right above his pumping fist, holding the lotion bottle.

"Yes," Stiles said, loosening his grip. "Please."

Derek squeezed out a dollop of lotion--it wasn't that Stiles had never noticed how obscene that looked, but it was a thousand times more so when it was Derek pouring it directly onto his dick. Stiles shivered at the cold, at the want coiling hot and low in his belly. He made himself open his hand, smearing the lotion around, and then got back to it. Derek dropped the lotion and settled his hand on Stiles's thigh, and Stiles could feel how fast Derek was breathing against the side of his throat. 

"The best thing," Derek said conversationally, over the frantic slick sound of Stiles's hand working over his dick, "is that when I go home and sit just like this on my bed and put my hand on my dick, it'll be so easy to picture you right here with me like this."

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Stiles gasped, arching back into Derek a little as he came into his own fist with Derek's hands on him. He felt dizzy and floaty, jacking himself through it on reflex, and Derek's arms tightened around him, holding him close until he went limp. Stiles opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, slowly becoming aware of the mess in his lap and the sweat between his back and Derek's chest.

"This is good, too," Derek murmured. "Now I can picture how it is after."

Stiles nodded sleepily. Never let it be said that he stood in the way of anybody's pursuit of knowledge.

"And when you're sure you're okay jerking off in front of me," Derek murmured, "then maybe you'll let me jerk you off, and then when you're good with that I can go down on you...."

Stiles thought it would be hypocritical to argue, so he didn't.


End file.
